Blog: gifts

We’re a generation that’s not good with feeling bad. Yet there are those days or seasons where life just feels bad. I’m not talking about a depression or severe anxiety that needs tender loving counselling or therapy; it’s the dailyness and sometimes ruggedness of a certain season. Like sadness or loss of something precious and valuable, or the month of December known as…Christmas. Christmas is difficult for many people. Christmas is the season where you are supposed to feel good. We all want our life portrayed like the magical Holiday movies of people skating at Rockefeller Center, houses covered in lights and Christmas presents with huge, perfect bows. It’s the magic and pleasure we all hope to experience. But sadness or grief confuses our expectations and priorities. On one hand we want all that goodness and fun, yet somehow it seems wrong and too much work. Both my husbands…

My three-year-old grandson Austin was bored and hungry. He opened the pantry door and with a perplexed look stared at all the tempting food. “Sweetie,” I said, “what do you want?” He kept staring and responded: “I want what I want.” “What is it you want?” I repeated. He kept repeating: “I want what I want.” I recognized his craving; he wanted something to make him feel better, happier but he wasn’t sure what that would be. Isn’t that like most of us? We wake up in the morning and we want something to make us happier. We want what we want but not exactly sure what that would look like. Just something to make us feel better. More sleep, a better job, more money, happier children, a more attentive husband, a new Michael Kors bag, a pedicure. Anything to fill that gnawing in our soul. I understand. I looked…

This may shatter your illusion of what I stand for, but I am the “Valentine Grinch”. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not here to steal the love out of Valentines Day, in fact I’m trying to bring it in and set it right. Did you notice? As soon as the Christmas decorations are put away, the stores are covered in red and white. Valentine decorations, cards, trinkets, chocolates and every kind of knicky-knack under the sun cover the shelves of almost every store you walk into. This has nothing to do with love. I’m against the deceptive lure of feeling guilt if I don’t buy into this lavish, expensive and slick marketing ploy. I rebel against paying double the price for flowers and sitting in overcrowded expensive restaurants. Instead, I am all for buying into loving my husband every day of the year. Not out of guilt, but out of…